Well, shit
by CoffeeHound
Summary: As if things weren't already complicated, Varric managed to make them even more so. Varric x Trevelyan. Rated T for future chapters, subject to change.


"Quite the party, wasn't it?" Varric leaned against the door to the balcony, the inquisitor leaning over the railing of the winter palace. She turned her head and gave a small grin, the dwarf sauntering up to her side. "Here," he handed her a cup. Spiced wine, he figured she could use a drink. "Thanks." The woman managed to say before draining the entire cup. "It has certainly been one of those nights." Setting the cup on the railing, she pushed her hair from her face. "If it's any consolation, there's no way I could make up the shit you pulled in there. Exposing the duchess in front of everyone, then forcing those three idiots into a truce? You're charming, for a girl who fell out of the sky." She cast a glance toward him, her eyes making his stomach drop for a moment.

"Glad to see my manners weren't lost in the circle." Delilah gave a small chuckle. He watched as she pushed the mess of dark copper hair from her eyes, what was once a fashionably up do was now a tussle of lazy ringlets, spiraling down her shoulder. Her eyes caught the moonlight, shimmering like emeralds. Shadowy make up adorned the tops of her lids, the colors complimenting her eyes quite nicely. The woman's high set cheek bones had been dusted with a blush, flushing her face in an excellent sort of way. In truth, she looked more stunning tonight than Varric had ever seen her, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. He coughed.  
"I'm surprised you're not in there antagonizing Cassandra, I assumed you would prod her about her name."  
"Her name may be a mouthful, but I prefer my mouthful of teeth." He replied smoothly. "And dancing isn't really my style. Hawke dragged me to one of these things before, total disaster."  
"Really? She dragged you to a ball?" The woman turned to face him, the formal attire hugging her body closely thanks to that sash. It was a struggle to keep his eyes up, more than it usually was.

"Of sorts. Once Hawke became Champion, there were all these noble idiots –no offense-, were asking for her hand and throwing these parties for her." He began to tell. "Of course, Hawke wasn't interested, but this woman would never turn down free food or beer. So insists that we all go to this party together if nothing for a laugh, Fenris outright said no, but Hawke had pulled this dramatic scene about falling in love with some Comte and he changed his mind pretty quick. Besides, Hawke liked seeing the others nobles squirm. It was bad enough that this refugee from Lothering showed up and bought her way into Hightown, but imagine her showing up with two elves, a dwarf, a pirate and a runaway grey warden? She loved it."  
"So we're all dressed, and as soon as we enter, Fenris is already at Hawke's side, not letting anyone get to close to her. The Comte was going to protest our ragtag band of misfits, but Hawke said that she would give no thought to his proposal if he did. So, we stayed."  
"I can't imagine that ended well, what happened?" Her voice was rich with interest, she always had an ear for his stories. He grinned. "About what you could expect. Merrill didn't wear shoes which appalled everyone, she broke into conversations and chatted eagerly about things. Anders mostly kept to himself, the Comte had a cat and he had taken up company with it. Aveline had watch that night, so she wasn't there, though I'm sure she was glad she wasn't. I was busy talking about my latest book, turns out they ate that shit up in Kirkwall."

"What of Isabela?"  
"The closet with the Comte's brother." A loud laugh escaped her throat, she covered her mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling with wonder. "How did the night end?"  
"The Comte didn't get his Champion, Anders nearly stole his cat, Fenris nearly killed three men and Merrill was convinced she made four new friends. And Isabela made the one." The inquisitor's sides were hurting from how much she had laughed. "Oh Maker," she breathed, wiping a tear away from her eye, a bit of makeup coming with it. "Hawke sounds amazing,"  
"She is." He replied. In no small part to the Inquisitor.  
There was a brief silence for a moment as they looked out on the royal gardens, the cool breeze carrying the scent of sweet honeysuckles and lavender. "I needed that," she whispered, just loud enough so he could hear. "That was the longest I've gone without feeling like I was carrying the weight of Thedas on my shoulders." It was true, the past few weeks had been nothing but war council meetings, scouting and hunting for resources, including a trip to the fade. She never got a break from anything.

 _"_ _You..You just hustled me." Varric blinked, watching the woman rake a handful of silvers and coppers into her coin purse. "Why, I haven't the faintest idea of what you mean, my dear Dwarf." Her eyes flashed a playful gleam, her patented smirk playing across her lips.  
"Bullshit, you couldn't even play a week ago."  
"Or so I lead you to believe."  
"You're not that good of an actress." He complained.  
"Clearly, I am. Did you think that I did nothing but read in the Circle tower, waiting for some gallant knight to come steal me away?" She put the bank of her hand to her forehead and bent her knee some, striking a distressed pose.  
_

 _The light of the hearth danced around them, casting shadows around the nearly empty tavern. Bull had ventured off with one of the serving girls while Krem merely shook his head. Sera had long since gone to bed, but not before she watched their cardgame from the rafters above, shouting what cards they had. It resulted in them having to start over several times, and Delilah threatening earwigs to cease her. A few of the soldiers remained in their seats, drunk or asleep. As long as they weren't breaking chairs, nobody seemed to care.  
"Just admit it," she spoke, plopping back down into her seat. "You got beat by the girl who was locked in a tower."  
"You weren't locked, from what I've heard."_

"Still _a tower." She repeated. Neither of them had drank that night, wanting clear heads for the card game they would play. The first several rounds had just been practice, or so Varric thought. He knew know that she was sizing him up, watching for tells and his mannerisms. She was clever.  
Those bright eyes watched him with playful delight as she picked up the cards again, her nimble fingers shuffling them again. "Ready for another round, Ser Dwarf?"  
"Not on your life, Lilac." He responded, holding out his hand. She sighed and returned them to him, their fingers brushing against each other. Her hands were soft, softer than he realized while his were calloused. Despite wearing gloves, his crossbow and near scrapes with death left them rough.  
"One loss and you're done?" She pouted, the pale of her lips shimmering in the light._

 _"For tonight, yes. Besides, it's late and I've kept you longer than I should've." She blinked, batting her doe like eyes at him before standing. "I suppose you're right," Delilah yawned as she stood, only now aware of how tired she was. She stretched once more and only now had Varric taken note of how her body was shaped. The curves were certainly there, shaped like an hour glass. Her hips were nothing to scoff at, and the fabric did nothing to hide her breasts, and shapely legs, for a brief moment, he wondered what she might look like naked.  
'What the fuck, Varric?' He hissed to himself. This was the inquisitor! A holy warrior sent from the fade to pull their asses out of the demonic hellfire that was about to swallow them all._

 _He paused. Yeah, hellfire put a certain dampening on wanting to see her nude.  
"Varric?" She asked. He looked to her, she was half way out the door before she noticed he wasn't following her. "Yeah, I'm coming." Though there was obviously no danger to her in Skyhold, he liked walking back with her. They would chatter and share useless gossip and he would share his book ideas with her, something she often had much input on. Whether or not he took it was entirely different issue.  
Once they reached the steps of the main building, she turned on her heels and smiled sweetly down at him. "I hope we can play more Wicked Grace, it was fun. And I'm not so scary, am I?" Another giggle escaped her throat.  
"Not at all, Lilac. Get some sleep, I'm sure the Seeker has big things planned for tomorrow." With that, they said goodnight and while he could say how she slept, he found himself tossing and turning, thinking of her._

In that time, the thought of seeing her naked had crossed his mind more than he would like to admit. He chalked it up to attraction to power, she was a powerful woman and had a beautiful face, but the more time he spent with her, the less it seemed to be about her appearance. The wind shifted and she bristled a little at that, but she showed no indication of wanting to go inside. "You're sure that dancing isn't your type of fun?" There was a teasing tone in her voice.  
"Not unless you're asking me to," the words came from him suddenly, and he regretted them almost immediately. "Dancing was never for me, either. A lot of people danced in the circle, but I had two left feet." She admitted, albeit a little embarrassing for her. "My sister, Talia, she could dance. Men fell in love with her on the dance floor." Varric watched the corners of her mouth fall, clearly there was a bit of resentment there. He tried to alleviate that.  
"You've got siblings?" She nodded.  
"Three brothers, and two sisters. I'm the youngest. My second eldest brother is a mage, we were at the circle together." She smiled a little. "My eldest brother is married to a wealthy woman, her family owns dozens of trade routes, and my other brother is currently engaged. From the letters he writes, they're very much in love." She looked down at the railing, her finger pawing at it uselessly. "My sister, she's received countless suitors. My father was never one to part with his daughters easily, though." He cried the day she left for the circle, she remembered that clearly. But when she spoke, he recalled that day he went to her room.

 _Light filtered in through the windows, the wind whistling through them as he climbed the steps to the inquisitor's chambers. She hadn't shown up for their game that evening, and he thought something might be wrong. Entering her room, he announced himself. At the top of the steps, he looked and found her hunched over her desk, wrapped in a silk robe that was surely a gift from their lovely ambassadors. It was ivory white, with trimming of gold and red, the colors of Ferelden. Though neither of them were from here, he assumed it only fitting since it was all taking place here.  
"Lilac?" He questioned, walking over to her desk. The woman jumped a bit, smiling at him. "Oh, Varric, I didn't hear you come in." Her hair was tossed back into a bun, a bronze net flecked with small opals kept it held back. Her eyes were weary, but held a certain type of fire that he enjoyed seeing. "Writing love poetry?" The dwarf asked, smiling as she smirked.  
"If only it were that," the woman set down her quill and picked up the letter, she cleared her throat and tried to sound as official as she possibly could._

 _"_ _To my beloved daughter,_

 _Delilah, my dear. I know you are busy with saving the world and such, but I must ask you, what do you plan to do when this is over? No doubt things will have changed for mages, and I have had several wealth men come and inquire about your martial state. Now, as far as I know, you are not currently involved, so I have arranged a few meetings if you ever find the time. I will not force my youngest daughter to anything she will detest, but I believe you should think of your future now that you are away from the circle._

 _With love, your father."_

 _Why did that make his stomach drop? It was a normal thing, a young, beautiful girl form a noble house would surely make a fine bride for anyone. And she was the inquisition's leader, any man would want a piece of that pie. "The world could end and my father is worried about marriage candidates." She gave a small scoff and set the letter aside.  
"None of them sound appealing? I'm sure," Varric picked up the letter, looking at the names her father had so lovingly wrote down. "Edmund of House Syngl would be lovely."  
"We played together as children before I was sent to the circle," she responded, fishing out a fresh piece of parchment. "I told him if he ate dirt I would marry him. It seems he intends to collect on that." He couldn't help but laugh. She waved a dismissive hand, however. "I told my father I have no intention of finding any suitors right now, or for a while."_

 _The man had forgotten, this was her first real taste of freedom. During one of their card games, she had spoken of the circle. She told him it was relaxed and she did get to go outside and home, it was not as if she got to spend all day or extended visits with her family. Two days, at most, and the rest of it she was under watch by the Templars. She said that they were quiet enough, and rarely anything happened in her circle until the rebellion.  
And yet, when she said those words, the weight lifted from his stomach. What did it matter to him? There was nothing between them other than some lustful desire that his mind had conjured up, and would not leave no matter how much he insisted it to.  
"Listen to me, prattling on about my family affairs." A crimson blush crossed her freckled cheeks, making him feel weird on the inside. "Surely you came to discuss something?"_

 _"Just seeing if you were up for a game of Wicked Grace. You didn't show up earlier, but I can see why." The blush deepened as she remembered.  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she stood in a rush, forgetting that she was wearing only her robe. "Just, ah, let me get dressed and I'll be meet you down in the tavern." Her voice was quick, rushed and he could pick up on the tones of guilt for forgetting.  
"See you there, Lilac." He left quickly, allowing her to undress and get into her clothes, and royally get his ass handed to him in the game._

"So," he began, trailing the word off. "No suitors in there for you?" She playfully punched his arm and sighed. "Not a one, poor Cullen seemed to be getting the brunt of them." That much was true, and the last she looked, he had disappeared somewhere. Getting fresh air, no doubt. "I could ask the same of you," she imitated the announcer's voice. "Renowned author, Master Varric Tethras." He rolled his eyes at her.  
"Don't start with that," he pushed her arm.  
"You started this." She replied, and in more than one way, he supposed he did. He hadn't been able to pinpoint exactly where the feelings turned from admiration to lust to actual feelings, but they were there.  
And here they were, alone, overlooking a royal garden in the dappled moonlight. And she, Delilah Trevelyan, of a noble house looking more beautiful than ever stood less than a foot from him.

All he had to do was speak.

"Listen, Lilac, there's been something I've wanted to talk to you about." He turned from the railing to her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The velvet glove felt strange, he was used to his hard leather ones. "What is it?" She asked, tilting her head to the side some. _Shit,_ he thought. This would all be much easier if it all played out in his head. Or he didn't have these feelings at all. Yeah, that would be preferable.  
"It's, ah," he was mumbling now, and that had forced her to bend some to hear him. _Like this wasn't embarrassing enough._ She was, of course, taller than him. "Take your time." Her voice was sweet, her brow knit together in worry over something that may be troubling him. Kindhearted to a fault, she was. "The thing is," he paused, his mouth slightly open as he turned to meet her gaze. Her eyes, her face, her hair. Fuck, it wasn't even that.

 _It was her.  
_  
Before he even realized what he had done, his gloved hands had reached out and grabbed the sides of her jaw, pulling her in against his face. His lips pressed against hers, and he heard a soft squeak of surprise from her, but no more surprising than what came next. The red lips pressed back against his, just as eager for the kiss it seemed. The kiss was hungry on his part, but he kept control of himself as best he could. Then, just as soon as it began, he broke away from her. She was still slightly bent at the knees, looking at him. "Varric?" Delilah's voice was breathless, looking at him with wild eyes.  
He didn't say anything. He turned on his heels and left. "Varric!"  
The dwarf left the winter palace before they did, traveling back to Skyhold with two of the soldiers they had brought with them. When they saw him, one of the guards was about to speak, but the look he gave him quieted him. The other simple pointed a finger to his own lips, then made a motion to wipe it off with the back of his hand.  
Varric imitated the motion, and found the stain of red on the back of his glove.

 _Well, shit._


End file.
